Page 49 of The Billionaire's Teacher

She chuckled and her fingertips—well, I assumed they were her fingertips—brushed my arm. “Means you’re heavy. Especially when you’re deadweight.”

Her fingers trailed down my arm then laced through mine. I fought a shudder of delight at the sensation that was so close to a caress. “Sorry.”

Was that my voice? I cleared my throat. Must be the mustiness in the air from the house being vacant that caused it to rasp. Right?

“If I thought you’d done it on purpose, I would accept your apology. I’m just glad it doesn’t seem like you have a concussion. That’s lucky. Or God. Probably God.” She chuckled. “Now. Let’s try to shuffle our way back to the hallway where there’s possibly more light since I notice you left the lantern in the closet.”

Lantern. Of course that was why there was light in the closet. Duh. “Sorry again. I didn’t think.”

“You did hit your head.” She tugged my arm as she shuffled forward, her feet making scuffing noises on the floor. “Ow. Found the step up.”

My toes bumped the step, too, and we turned the corner into the hallway. It was some lighter here, but still dark. The rain continued to sluice onto the floor in sheets, as wind wreaked havoc on the trees outside.

“Should we see if there are shutters here?” I frowned at the floors. They were going to be ruined. I shouldn’t care. Why did I care? Maybe because the architecture spoke to me in some deep, soothing way. Or maybe because I’d hit my head and I was grateful for any sort of safety from the storm that raged outside.

“If you want. But let’s get the lantern and bags and move into the living room. It’s a better space for hunkering down.” Sunny marched down the hall toward the bedroom that held the closet we’d been in when I woke up.

With a shrug, I followed. She didn’t need to lift all the bags by herself. Although, she’d had to do that when she found this place. And me.

I frowned.

When I entered the closet, she already had three of the bags slung over her shoulders.

“Let me get the rest.” I reached for one of the emergency supply bags. My ribs protested, but I ignored it. “How did you get all this, and me, into the house?”

She picked up the lantern. “A little at a time. You were the hardest, but you came to enough to help some. You don’t remember?”

I shook my head.

“Hm. Maybe you lost a teeny bit of time with the knock you gave yourself.” She didn’t elaborate and I could only stare as she left the room, taking all the light—physically and metaphorically—along with her.

I hurried to follow, my muscles protesting as the bags banged against me.

Back in the living room, Sunshine had arranged everything near the fireplace. It was centered on a wall and far enough from what had been the glass walls that the floor looked dry. Ish.

I tripped on the step down and took a couple of jogging steps to avoid falling.

“Careful!” Sunny lurched to her feet, arms outstretched. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I’m fine.” My face was hot. “Just clumsy.”

“Sit anyway, okay?” She took the bags off my shoulders and finished her arranging. “Use this as a backrest.”

“I can help. Honestly. I’m fine.” I crossed my arms.

Sunny tipped her head to the side and lifted her eyebrows. “Really?”

I nodded.

“Okay.” She drilled a finger into my ribs.

I sucked a breath in through my teeth as pain radiated out from her touch.

“Sit.” She pointed to the clever arrangement of bags that would probably end up being comfortable. Because apparently Sunshine knew everything there was to know about making the best of a shipwreck situation.

“Fine.” I scowled at her and stomped over to sit where she’d indicated. I crossed my arms. “Now what?”

“Now, maybe you need some aspirin and a nap.” She squatted beside one of the emergency bags and dug through until she pulled out a first aid kit. She unzipped it and rifled through the pockets until she found a sealed packet of pain reliever. “Here.”

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